Nicola’s story
Nicola, Neil and Laura
Nicola was 5 when her little sister Laura died. Without any explanation or medical reasoning at the time, Nicola talks about how that grief has impacted her today.
My sister Laura died in 1975, she was 2, I was 5. That's close to 50 years ago now. Trauma has made those memories fuzzy but I remember her beautiful smile, how her favourite colour was yellow and her favourite beanie doll. What I clearly remember is coming home from school to find our bath filled with floral tributes from her funeral, that image has never left me.
I was sitting in the backseat of our car in the hospital car park, my dad walked over. I was only young, but I remember seeing his tears. He told us that Laura had died. I was devastated, confused and hugely unsettled, I don't think I was old enough to really understand what was happening.
He told us that Laura had died. I was devastated, confused and hugely unsettled, I don't think I was old enough to really understand what was happening.
I think that when children aren't trusted to handle facts, they often construct their own narrative to help make sense of what is happening, I know that I did. There was very little support for child bereavement in the 70’s, especially for siblings. My parents didn’t talk about Laura’s death because they thought they were protecting me and my younger brother. In all honesty, I don’t think my parents understood what had happened either.
I was filled with guilt, and believed that everyone wished it had been me that died rather than my little sister. I didn't talk to my parents about Laura as it made them so upset, none of my primary school friends had lost a sibling so I have no memory of talking about it with friends or even teachers. I felt dreadfully isolated.
We didn’t talk about Laura. My parents were very young and no support was offered to them, my mum had to keep going, she had my brother Neil who was a baby, and a 5 year old to cope with so she didn't have a great deal of choice. I was a deeply insecure child, if Laura could suddenly disappear, then so could anyone, I had a recurring dream that I returned home from school to find my family had moved house without telling me or leaving an address.
I would definitely have benefited from support at school, the opportunity to talk things through and make sense of what had happened. I've always felt a deep sense of loss and particularly envied the close relationships that friends had with their sisters. Having my own children really brought it home to me how awful it must have been for my parents to lose their little girl and how difficult it must have been to carry on and take care of their other children.
Laura (left), Neil (middle), Nicola (right)
I had a recurring dream that I returned home from school to find my family had moved house without telling me or leaving an address.
We've become better at talking about my sister now, I wrote a book about our experiences and that kickstarted a long overdue conversation with my parents, and in many ways has brought us closer together.
Siblings often get forgotten in the hurricane of grief and loss. The sibling relationship should be the longest of your lifetime and that loss is multifaceted: the loss of your shared childhood and the future relationship as you become adults.
It's so important to be both gentle and honest with children, if they are left to fill in the blanks, things can become confused, emotions like guilt and insecurity and the need to assign responsibility can have long lasting consequences well into adulthood.
If I could speak to my younger self, I would tell her that it’s better to ask questions, even the hard ones, than to make up your own answers in the long run. I wish Sibling Support had existed back then, the resources would absolutely have helped me navigate my grief, it is incredible that they exist for children now.
